


A Bridge Over Troubled Water

by LadyMorphine



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Awkward Romance, Cancer, Car Accidents, College, Crying, Cute Kids, Doctors & Physicians, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Gay Parents, Gen, High School, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Insomnia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Middle School, Multi, Nurses, Nurses & Nursing, Opposites Attract, Other, References to Depression, Romance, Sad Ending, Single Parents, Slow Romance, Step-parents, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, University, Weight Issues, house fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorphine/pseuds/LadyMorphine
Summary: This is a transfer from my Wattpad. And just so you know this story will be changed to take on a much darker tone and feel than the Wattpad along with being more descriptive and covering more sensitive topics than previously.





	1. Chapter One: Burns, POV Emma

**Author's Note:**

> This is a transfer from my Wattpad. And just so you know this story will be changed to take on a much darker tone and feel than the Wattpad along with being more descriptive and covering more sensitive topics than previously.

The last thing I remember was my baby brother shouting "Emy!" Before the flames wrapped themselves around me.

"Female. Sixteen years old. Severe and life-threatening thermal burns" shouted the EMT in his deep and raspy voice.

I was barely conscious the whole time. He was shouting at everyone to work quickly and get me disinfected to prevent infection. All I could remember was how my ex-boyfriend betrayed me and started this fire. He left me his girlfriend to burn in the fire. Me Emma Bloom the beautiful, popular, queen bee cheerleader with tons of friends, he left me to burn inside that house.

But I wasn't dead or burned to a crisp. I was extremely burned though. I didn't look like myself. Everywhere had been damaged by the fire except my head and face, and some of my arms and legs.

 

Then I arrived in the ER. It was stark and plain with people in uniforms and people will injuries all around. Though none as bad as me. Absolutely none as bad as me.

“Female. Sixteen years old, Severe and life-threatening thermal burns,” shouted the EMT again as they rolled me into the trauma bay.

The doctors and nurses swarmed around me like bees to a hive. Each of them working swiftly on me and my body. They placed something cooling on my body and it felt like a minty chill really. But it still hurt. Oh God, how everything hurt. It felt like a burning sensation really and truly. It made me want to cry but I knew crying would just put me in even more pain than I already was in and I hated it so much. I was also afraid the tears would infect my wounds.

I was lucky to be alive. Everyone in the ER said so. Though I would need countless skin grafts and skin surgeries to fix me up. Heaven knows for how long I would need them as well, weeks? Months? Years? Decades? Forever?

Everything was a rush around me, like those time-lapse videos online, people moving at the speed of light all around me. Doctors, nurses, burn specialists all around me treating me. Trying to make sure I was kept alive. A breathing mask was placed on my face to help me breathe.

"Don't worry Miss Bloom," Doctor Polvoriento said to sound reassuring to me.

My clothes were cut off me, I was wrapped in bandages, and I was then placed in a stark light blue hospital gown.

My world then went completely into the black abyss. But I every so often slipped into a semi-conscious state.

I do however recall a few things from my few semi-conscious states.

A young dark skinned boy clinging to Doctor Polvoriento in tears and her whispering “Reynaldo” to him softly as she lightly ran her fingers through his kinky curls.

Another thing I recalled was the EMT from before having a photo conversation with his husband. I noticed his face was scarred up. Perhaps from a fire. I do remember what little I heard of the conversation. They were talking about a girl named Claire and an incident with a person named Nim.

One other thing I remembered was, the screams of a teenage boy screaming with loud painful sobs “Don’t you die! Don’t you die on me!”.

The very last thing I remembered was this, a beautiful girl with light brown skin and two Dutch braids, walking past my room in the drab and plaid emerald green and black uniform of Fleur-De-Lis High School.

I awoke fully about three days later in the ICU covered in bandages, bouquets of flowers all around me. Every single bouquet not from one of my popular friends or someone from the cheerleading or football team. They were all from extended family, people I didn’t know, a few kids from other high schools and someone else named Alma Bentham. I tried to move one of arms. I managed to move it but excruciating pain followed. I shut my eyes tight, reeled, and bit my lip until the pain vanished. Note to self: never move limbs where you are severely burned.

I was being fed through a feeding tube. I was stitched up all over my body and upon those stitches, bandages. From what I overheard the nurses saying that I had twelve surgeries in the past two days. That number felt so high. That was more surgeries than I could have ever imagined having in my lifetime. So many more than I could have ever imagined myself having. Most people go through life having no surgeries. I, however, had twelve in the past two days alone. And I undoubtedly would have many more in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.

I knew my life would be far from normal from now on. I wouldn't look normal ever again. And I didn't even know if my family was even still alive. They had been in the fire too. All I remember was what my brother shouted. Nothing after that.

My parents. My siblings. Our dogs. Our other pets. Where they okay? It wasn't just about me. It was about them too.

My family. Where were they? Where they dead? Where they okay? Where they safe?

''Daddy, Mom, Julia, Isaac. Where are you guys? I'm scared,'' I whispered as a tear fell down my cheek.

The door opened and four figures entered.

One was a girl with pale skin, platinum blonde hair, and amethyst colored eyes. She was skinny to a bit of an extreme and short. The other blonde was a boy. Chubby and tallish with blue eyes, pale blonde hair, and pale skin.

The O'Connor twins Raphaela and Enoch. Their brother Mikey was in my grade. And to be honest the resemblance was uncanny. Well with Enoch at least.

However, the other two figures were more recognizable to me. they were Korra De Vega and Greyson McKendrick. Korra was a color guard and a cheerleader while Greyson was a quiet and shy baseball player who kept to himself. I didn't even know these people. Much less did they know me.

In fact, even if I did know them. I hardly knew them. Enoch and Raphaela I only knew through Mikey whom I never talked too and Korra and Greyson where outcast among my group who had small tight friend groups.

Finally came a voice.

''Think she can hear us?'' asked Raphaela as she tilted her delicate head to the side.

''What do you think dummy? She's awake!'' snapped Enoch in annoyance with his twin.

''Shut it! I was asking her not you Enoch,'' said Raphaela as she stuck her tongue out at her twin.

I gave a light nod so that they knew I could hear. I didn't want to risk talking.

''So Em. I got a new hairdo in honor of you today. Pink. your favorite color'' said Korra as she pointed to her now powder pink hair.

''And I'm organizing a fundraiser to help cover the medical costs,'' said Greyson with a smile upon his tan face.

''And our family is watching your families pets. they get along well with ours,'' said Raphaela with a hop.

'F..a,''I whispered barely audible.

''We don't know Emma,'' was Korra's response.

There then came a heavy weight on my chest. What? It had been two days since the fire happened! They had to know! My family had to be okay! They had too! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! They had to know! Everything was okay! This was just some sick and twisted nightmare!

My world then went black as a starless and moonless night.

Back into the abyss, I went.


	2. Chapter Two: One Year Later, POV Emma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are again. Another day another chapter for you lovely people. And just so you know. There are Easter eggs hidden throughout this novel. Multiple in each chapter. Anywhere from 1 to 10. Depending on length and stuff.   
> And the Easter eggs will be  
> 1\. A reference to a TV show, book or movie  
> 2\. Something Named after a place or thing from a tv show, book, or movie.  
> 3\. A character who will appear later in the book appears as a background character in an early chapter than when they first appear  
> 4\. Etc.  
> And yes. Symbolism is here. But also red herrings. Because red herrings are fun.  
> Also comment please if you can. I want to know things I can improve on and what you guys like.

One Year Later....

I woke up that day in my hospital bed. Another surgery had been performed on me. And the pain medication it seemed wasn't taking its pretty little time wearing off like the doctors said it would.

 

The burning sensation began to return quickly and I knew that like always it would take forever to go away. 

I stared up at the ceiling. That stark white and somewhat yellowed ceiling of my hospital room in the burn unit. I'd grown accustomed to the color of the ceiling during my stay. That same color that had awaited my eyes opening and the same one that watched me like a guardian angel when I slept. The same color that watched me day in and day out from up above my bed. It was strange finding a shred of joy in some ceiling of a hospital room to me, completely foreign to me.

I moved my nearly healed finger up. As always a pain followed. But as of late, the pain was shrinking in its intensity.

My first days in the hospital was a string of family friends, neighbors, and classmates coming to visit me. Some I hardly knew. The family friends who had small children had to explain to their children I was sick and not an alien from outer space who crash-landed on Earth. The neighbors brought flowers and usually only was there just to deliver them. But classmates were the ones who came most often. They would bring flowers or just sit and talk to me. Sometimes they would come alone and other times in a group of three to six. Mikey, Korra, and Greyson came most often sometimes with Enoch and Raphaela in toe. Other than that doctors and nurses made up most of my company in the hospital. Which wasn't too bad.

 

My parents and little brother Isaiah were at other hospitals being treated for their burns. The only one who wasn’t was Julia. She had been the one to make it out of our house in time to call the fire department. From what I had been told she was living with a family friend and seeing a psychologist for her PTSD and feelings of extreme survivors guilt. She was about to turn thirteen. The birthday I had promised to take her to cheer nationals with me and let her see me perform. It was going to be our high schools’ tenth year in a row at nationals too. But that wouldn’t happen because of the fire and Julia wouldn’t or couldn’t even come to visit me because of her survivors’ guilt, and a sport she had taken up at school. Not to be mean or anything. But Julia was never the type of person I expected to take up a sport due to her weight, she was the chubby one and I was the skinny one. But nonetheless, I was still happy for Julia and her taking up this new activity since last year.

Flowers still came. They always came in a rainbow array of vibrant and pastel colors. Though they continued to come in fewer and fewer numbers each time. But one person still always sent the same flowers each time. Alma Bentham and she always sent beautiful orange and yellow chrysanthemums. Their scent was earthy and herby. They reminded me of summertime at the beachside with my family and friends. Surfing, biking, hiking, soccer, swimming in the ocean, and walking along the beach and all the fun we had in doing those things and how I yearned to do all of them again with my family and friends. 

I spent most of my days in my hospital bed. Slowly but surely I was regaining my strength and the use of my limbs as well. I wasn't sure when I was going to be able to walk again but I was hoping it would be soon.

The meds continued to wear off. And the pain became a burning sensation over my stomach. I held back salty tears as it intensified. Begging God to make the pain end soon. A tear escaped me and my heart was pounding fast like a bullet train. God, it hurt! God, it hurt like a semi smacking me head on!

A dark-skinned nurse entered. She remained silent as she started up my pain medication again, checked my stats, and then she left once again. This left me alone with the ceiling once again. The only thing that never changed in this hospital. The only thing that brought a little light to the bleak hospital room that I called my home since the fire. I promised myself that once I was better I would walk out of this hospital forever and never look back. Never come back to this hospital. And live my life despite my injuries to the very fullest. To see my family again. To see my pets again (who the O'Connors were still taking care of. Bless their souls). To see my classmates again and repay them for keeping me company during this difficult time in my life. To repay everyone who had helped me and my family during this time. To see them smile. To make them smile and make them proud beyond my wildest dreams.

And finally, for the first time in a year, I sat up.


	3. Chapter three: Therapy Session. POV Horace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does reference eating disorders. If that triggers (no, not the joke I’m triggered. But the actual triggers for serious and painful things) you then please don’t read this chapter.
> 
> Also please do leave kudos and comments. They let me know I’m doing well and what I can work better on

I was laying on my back on the couch as I breathed deeply in and out. I opened my eyes to find the light gray walls of my therapist's office. I sighed. The breathing was a new form of stress relief. A sort of idea that my therapist had suggested to help with my anxiety.

I hated going to therapy. The only reason I even went was that it helped keep my anxiety, Body dysmorphia, And my recovering anorexia in check so that I could actually have the strength to leave my house and get out of my bed each morning. To actually live my life. 

"Very good Horace," my therapist said snapping me out of my thoughts.

 

That day we had spoken about the things I still needed to improve on from last weeks’ session. Don’t get me wrong I had accomplished quite a lot but there were things I needed to accomplish and that they wanted me to accomplish. At the top of the list was the Goliath of them all, eating in public. The one thing I had absolutely refused to do since I was nine. The thing which often lead to punishments from my unsympathetic parents. But it’s gotten better. Especially since my dad isn’t around anymore. But my older brothers are and they can be bad sometimes. Moms’ had the most improvement since my dad's been gone maybe even more than me.

"Gee thanks," I said with heavily masked false positivity.

I went out to the waiting room and my mother was waiting for me. She stood up and straightened out her lace dress from the plus-size store she likes to shop at.

"So? How did it go today?" she asked sweetly in her motherly voice.

"Just like always," I replied to her disinterested.

"That doesn't really answer my question. Was it the same as just like always as when you first started or is it the same just like always as it is now?" asked my mom slightly annoyed.

"Just like always as it is now," I replied to her as I placed my hand in the pockets of my zip-up sweatshirt.

"Okay," she replied to me.

We continued to walk out to my moms' car in the hospital parking lot. We buckled ourselves into the car and began to drive home. Which was filled with the chatter of the radio and smooth jazz as it always was. I stared out the window as we drove home. We passed an ambulance with flashing lights on the way home.

It's rather weird, but I always wondered where the ambulances were going when we passed them on the road. Who there were going to go get and who was inside them and why. Mom and dad said that it was morbid I wondered that whenever we passed an ambulance. Dad because he considered it private and mom because she couldn't imagine. Either way, my twin sister Hannah and I found it interesting. So did all my other siblings as well, it was one of the few things we wouldn’t scream at each other for while in the car on long rides.

We pulled into our driveway and I rushed up to my room and locked the door and flew onto my bed and got on my tablet. The walls of my room where taped with a collage of photos clipped from fashion magazines of sexy men. Each of them of with six-pack abs and athletic muscular physique to match. They all were of perfect physical attractiveness and I wanted so badly to look like them I would have murdered to be able to even just for a second. I wanted to look perfect like the male models in those magazines even if it just be for a second. One measly little puny second of me being perfect.

Here was the thing though. My therapist, the very moment they found out about those photos taped to my wall. Wanted them taken down immediately. She told me that they would hinder my progress and my recovery. I kicked and screamed and cried to my mom that night and we made a deal. I could keep them up just as long as I continued to recover.

I began to read on my tablet some of the books my mom had downloaded onto it for me. My tablet had YA books, a lot of apps, games, drawing apps, video editing software, video making software, photo editing software, self-help, and mental wellness apps, yoga/exercise apps (therapist approved of course), fashion design apps, and white noise apps. Mom said all these apps would help me. But I don't exactly see how since I wanted to go outside sometimes and my therapist said that nature would help me heal. Mom was insisting however I get some to help support me. Someone my age who wouldn’t hinder my progress one bit.

An accountability buddy. My dad had one of those, for his…... problem. (Fuck you, dad, I’m glad you’re out of our lives). Well, mom called what she wanted me to have an accountability buddy, I called that a help friend or just a regular friend too. 

And so I did. His name was Enoch O'Connor. A boy I had never in my life talked to before. He was a chubby goth loner boy in my grade with a twin sister who was his complete opposite at constant. It seemed Enoch always couldn’t stand her constant positivity and optimism one bit. He always seemed to want to stick a hot straight pin in her. But even though I’m friends with Raphaela I can’t really blame him for wanting to at all. She’s a sweet girl but she can be annoying sometimes. Just like my own siblings.

The night went as it should for the rest of the night. Dinner, family time, shower, change into my pajamas, skin routine, read, play video games with Hannah and Hale (my semi-identical twin brother), say goodnight to my mom, go on my tablet, drink my supplement drink, and finally sleep.


	4. Chapter Four: Be My Guest: POV Enoch

I leaned over getting the food into each dog bowl. It was my job to feed the dogs. I finally finished and placed them on the kitchen floor. The dogs came in and dug into their dinner. Not even a minute later my dad entered.

"You're gonna wear that?" my dad said as he clucked his disapproval.

He was referring to my black emo-core t-shirt and black basketball shorts. My usual attire as I preferred comfort over style.

"I'll go change," I groaned as I marched up to my room.

I shut the door when I got to my room and shimmed out of my clothes and into my underwear. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a pale blonde boy. Tall for my age and very chubby. I had large crimson stretch marks on my belly. I touched them. The skin was tender there. They had come due to the fact I loved to eat and do no physical activity and just lay my ass down on my bed and play video games or watch TV.

I grabbed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and put them on. Then I put on my sneakers. I walked over to my hamster cage and looked inside. Inside where my three hamsters Spooky, Midnight, and Chili. Spooky an all black hamster was running on the wheel. Midnight was sleeping, and Chili was running around in the tubes. Next to them was my Guinea Pig named Nightmare. Nightmare was all black and was asleep in his cage.

I heard a knock at the door downstairs. My dad was the one who opened the door.

"Hi, Mr. O'Connor," said Horace from downstairs as he came in.

Upon hearing his voice I rushed down stairs.

"Hey, Horace," I said.

"Hi, Enoch," Horace greeted me in a shy and tiny voice.

We both went out to my front porch.

"You two boys have fun," my mom said before she closed the door.

"So. Where exactly do we go?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know. I hardly leave my house," said Horace as he looked down.

Jesus. How shy was this kid?

"Well fancy boy. How about a restaurant?" I suggested.

"Ha ha very funny. Absolutely not," he replied.

"Then what about the movies?" I sighed.

"No," Horace replied again.

"Fine then! Let's go to some stupid vintage store downtown," I said gruffly.

Horace jumped. I had startled him.

"O-okay," he said as he shook a little.

We then both made our way downtown to a vintage shop and went in. It smelled of old books and vinyl. The kind that reminded me of my childhood with my parents as they spent their days not so long ago rummaging and sifting through vintage clothes, books, toys, furniture, and records with their three children in toe.

Horace immediately darted off to the books section while I stayed among the vinyl records. Looking for the bands, singers, and artists I had grown familiar too. The ones I was practically raised on and was gurgling in the crib too. There where the familiar ones among the vast selection. Then there were those that were unfamiliar and new.

"What you got there?"

I jumped. I turned and it was Horace who had spoke. He had books up in large stacks in his skinny arms. All of them books that had once been owned by other owners but now laid in Horace’s arms and hands.

"Records," I said.

"My dads where emos, you know way back in the two thousands," I added.

"That's neat. My parents have more of a classic taste in music," Horace told me.

"Oh," I said.

"Sorry. I'm awkward, I haven't really, ya know. Gone out with a friend in a long time," said Horace.

"I'm your friend?" I told him as I looked at him quizzically.

"Well, I consider you a friend. Unless you want to be something more or something less," Horace said as he nearly dropped the books he had in his hands.

"Maybe," I told him as I put the vinyl record back.

"I hate the word maybe. It's always so uncertain," he told me.

"Well, that is the definition of the word," I snarked.

"Well whatever," Horace snapped back.

"Jesus Horace," I said.

"Make sure my mom doesn't hear you talk like that," Horace cracked a tiny smile.

"You're actually cute," he added a bit red in his face.

"So are you, except you're handsome," I told him.

Horace blushed harder.

"Do you think we could you know. Go somewhere else and buy do something fun?" asked Horace.

"Sure," I replied.

We went up to the counter and paid for Horace's books then the chubby blonde cashier put them in a bag and gave them to us. We then left the store. Why was Horace so attractive? I just met him and I already liked him a bit more than a friend.

My thoughts continued until we reached another store. This time an arcade.

 

Patch and his crew stood outside. They were my ‘friends’ or at least the only ones who didn’t judge me at school for how I dressed or acted. His crew consisted of Patch, Payne, Kane, Rogue, Grey, Sparrow, Violet, And Jezebel.

They were troublemakers and always raised hell around town. Well everyone except Violet and I. Our parents would kill us if we were troublemakers and raised hell.

"You wanna go in there?" I half laughed, ignoring Patch and the others.

"Yeah. I also used to with Marzo and Hannah," Horace explained.

I shrugged and we both entered. Inside it was dark with neon colors from the arcade machines. Everything else was black or brightly colored neon with a rather dated eighties fashion.

I followed Horace to a machine. It was a newer one and it was a dancing game.

He handed me his stuff and swiftly stepped up to play it. He placed two quarters in and began to play.

He moved his body around perfectly to the music to each song he danced to. Each song upbeat and catchy. Bright and bubblegum pop.

He finally finished and stepped down.

"Woah, I'm impressed," I told him.

"Thanks," he said his cheeks getting a bit red.

"It's getting late. We should probably go home," he said.

And so we went back to my house. I handed him his stuff and before he left.

I felt a warm sensation on my lips. A kiss. Was this really happening? It was wet but felt so good. It felt so warm and kind of happy.

The kiss ended.

"Thanks for giving me such a wonderful night," Horace told me.

"Thank you for being so awesome," I told him.

"Goodbye Enoch," said Horace.

"Goodbye Horace," I said right back before I headed to my house.


	5. Chapter Five: I Met A Girl, POV Hugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back guys. Sorry for the long wait. It’s just things came up and I couldn’t get this done.

I laid there in my hospital bed, reading a book from the pile my mom had left me. Alone. I was hooked up to an IV bag that slowly dripped fluids into my body.

No one had come in yet today.

The walls were a bright and happy sunny yellow color. A stark contrast to the seriousness and terminal nature of the disease people were dealing with in here. Cancer.

It's like what everyone says you don't think it will happen to you until it happens to you. I never thought it would happen to me just like people always say. I was a perfectly normal, happy, and healthy active boy who did sports and got good grades. I was on both JV and varsity basketball, football, and soccer teams all throughout high school. And I had just gotten accepted into my dream university. Then last May right before graduation I began getting sick. Vomiting all the time and I had a high fever along with dizziness and nausea. I told myself it was the flu and it would pass. But by July it hadn't gone away and I was getting worse. My mom and I decided to schedule an appointment to get some tests done. I remember how much agony it was to sit and wait inside the examination room of the doctors' office for the results of the tests.

Then came the results. Leukemia. I felt my entire world freeze. I felt numb. I was in too much shock to feel anything else. The only thing I felt for a long time was numbness. That was the only thing I could feel. My entire world had just been flipped on its head.

Then after the first treatment session is when it finally hit me. As my mom drove me back to my dorm I burst into a powerful flood of tears. It was the first thing I felt in weeks. Fear. I took in sharp heavy breathes as my tears flooded down my cheeks. I cried for the rest of the day and into the next dawn. I was so frail, so sleepy, I couldn’t take testosterone for my transition anymore, and I couldn't eat any food without it tasting like metal or metallic. It was months before I could taste foods normally again.

I was filled with joy when I could finally after months I could taste how food really tasted. I hugged everyone in the kitchen at my house that day. And it was the same when I could finally go back on testosterone. A day of unexplainable joy.

''Hello, Mr. Apiston,'' a nurse said as she entered.

I lifted my eyes up from my book.

Before me stood the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

She had deep brown skin, two beautiful cognac colored eyes, long curly obsidian black colored hair, she was of average height. she wasn't chubby or thin, no she was somewhere in the middle. she carried most of her weight on the bottom half of her body, which gave her a lovely pear shape, she had the most gorgeous face I had ever seen in my whole life.

I honestly felt like a peasant who had just met a queen.

''Oh, hi. You can call me Hugh,'' I told her.

''Well I'm here to tell you, Hugh, that your treatment is ready,'' said the nurse.

''What's your name?'' I asked her, curious to get this beautiful strangers name.

''Fiona Frauenfeld,'' she replied.

''That's a beautiful name,'' I said as I stared at her.

''Do I have something in my teeth?'' asked Fiona as she covered her mouth with her hand.

''What? No, not at all. It's just. You're really beautiful,'' I said.

Fiona began to blush wildly, she quickly turned the color of a ripe strawberry.

''W-why thank you,'' said, Fiona, as she got a little choked on her words.

"Uh, I'm going to give you your treatment now," she said slightly embarrassed.

She began to give me my treatment for my leukemia, she worked quickly and diligently as she administered it to me. She was so beautiful. So gorgeous. I wanted her to be mine more than I wanted free of my cancer. After she finished administering my treatment she began to check my vitals, heart rate, pulse, and my white and red blood cells.

"Fiona," I began to say, but I stopped. I couldn't think of what to say next.

"Yes Hugh?" she asked curiously as she tilted her head a little to the left.

"Well, I was wondering if you uh. Ya know, wanted to hang out sometime? Like, go to the movies or something?" I said.

"Well....yeah. But I'm busy a lot. I'm a nursing student. And I have a lot of tests to study for and a lot of work to do to graduate from medical school. So maybe if I can find the time then we can totally hang out sometime," explained Fiona.

"Really? Thanks so much," I replied as a rare smile appeared on my face.

"My pleasure," said Fiona with a glowing delighted look on her gorgeous face.

She handed me her number and I handed her mine.

"It was a pleasure meeting you and I can't wait to see you again," said Fiona.

"''Twas a pleasure to meet you too," I smiled.

Then Fiona left the room and I once again was left all alone with nothing but my book to read that my mom had left me.

 

Later that day I was in my moms’ car headed back to my dorm for the first time in a month. We had everything packed up in boxes and I was curled up in a ball in the passenger seat.

“Mom?” I said with my head laid upon the fluffy pillow my mom gave me.

“Yes Hugh?” replied my mom as she stopped at a red light.

“I met a girl today,” I said as I curled deeper into the seat.

“Who is it?” asked my mom.

“Her name is Fiona Frauenfeld and she’s a nurse in training,” I told my mom.

“Did you meet her at the hospital?” asked my mother as she turned a corner.

“Yeah,” I said in a sheepish manner.

“And let me guess. You’re in love?” said my mom.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Be careful,” said my mom.

Everything was silent after that. Even after we got to my dorm room.

And when we arrived and got everything set up I quickly fell asleep.


	6. Chapter Six: Home, POV Fiona

Late that night I returned back to my siblings and I's apartment. I pushed open the door with my hip.

 

My siblings all sat around the kitchen island. They were discussing an upcoming topic for my younger sisters. The start of a new school year. As usual Oriana was chattering away in her usual bubbly voice.

“....Anyway so there’s this girl in my class named Agatha. She’s really nice and stuff. And she’s Angelica’s best friend and Angelica’s parents adopted Agatha. Then there’s Frankie who’s a bitch. Then there’s Olive who is in a wheelchair. She’s nice but Frankie pushed her down the stairs,” said Oriana in her fast paced sweet voice.

"I'm home!" I called as I closed and locked the door behind me.

My siblings looked up at me.

"How was work Fiona?" asked Felix as I entered the kitchen looking in the cabinet for a meal. 

"Fine like any other day. But with an exception," I told her as I plucked a pasta noodle cup from the cupboard and warmed it up in the microwave.

"What kind of exception?" asked Graham as he sipped his sugary soda.

"A boy asked me out," I replied as I plopped down next to him, my heated up pasta noodles in a cup in my hands.

"What?" Felix spat out his tea and it sprayed out into the air.

"A boy asked me out," I repeated.

He coughed. It was clear. He was having a hard time believing that his older sister who had once been a tiny cute and chubby toddler was now a college student-nurse who worked in a hospital and was getting asked out on dates by hot boys. No longer was his big sister who would avoid boys at all costs. I was now his grown up sister. And he it seemed was having a hard time seeing me grown up.

"What's his name?" coughed Felix.

"Hugh," I replied as I took a bite of the soft and smooth pasta noodles. My signature after work dish.

"That's a cute name," Aria said as she began to sip her tea once again.

"And he is handsome and he's strong," I said as his enchanting face flooded back into my mind for what seemed like the millionth time in an hour.

"So he's an athlete," said Felix as he continued to sip his tea.

"No he has leukemia," I told them.

And for the second time, he choked on his tea.

"But he might hurt you sis. If he doesn't survive his battle with cancer then you'll be left broken-hearted. He might just want to see you and have you around so he isn't left alone to battle his cancer and he may not actually want a romantic relationship with you. Sometimes people like him have ulterior motives Fiona," snapped Felix.

"He won't hurt me Felix. And how many times have I told you not to use the words fight or battle in association with cancer?" I snapped back as I placed my now empty pasta noodle cup into the recycle bin.

"You're going to end up like mom if you don't play it safe," Felix snapped at me ferociously once again.

I clenched. Our mom. He. No. He couldn't have.

I race up to my bedroom and locked the door as I flung myself onto my bed in complete and total darkness.

I began to cry and curled up. I threw off my clothes and just cried in my underwear in my bed. My safe place in the world. Just a few steps away from my collection of thrift store books I had amassed over my childhood and teenage years.

Books brought me peace and tranquillity. A portal to escape my volatile world. A portal to another dimension or universe. A portal to the past, outer space, a dystopian world, the future, a murder mystery, a portal to characters who would never leave you even when people did.

I grabbed a YA time travel book from my bedside table and began to read it by flashlight. Quickly escaping to another place.


	7. Chapter seven: Therapy Group POV Emma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed my mind for Frankie’s character. So thus that’s why the things mentioned previously are now currently regarded as rumor. Also be prepared for siblings galore and lots of drama and dark stuff as well!

I remember that day clearly. It was group therapy, I remembered how me and my friends would make fun of people who went to it because we thought they were crazy. Huh, some friends they were. They hadn’t come to see me in the entire year I had been in the hospital.

But that day it was deemed safe enough for me to go out of my room and be wheeled into the group therapy room.

By the time I had arrived the room was already half full. There were a few people I recognized. Jacob Portman, the boy who lost it after his grandpa died. Bronwyn Bruntley, The girl who got kicked out of three schools in one year and killed her narcissistic stepfather in self-defense. Noor Pradesh, poor little orphan girl, broken family, and from the wrong side of the tracks. The other two, however, were middle schoolers. Frankie Martínez, little cousin of Wreck Donovan. But she herself had quite an attitude too, avoiding most kids and having an unhealthy addiction to cleanliness, perfection, dolls, and shaving. Then came Angelica Weatherman, she probably was the one I heard the least about, the only thing I heard about her was how she once danced outside during a thunderstorm.

I was wheeled beside Jacob. He fiddled with his phone, he was texting his mom or something. 

Within the next few minutes. More kids had arrived. There was an incredibly petite girl who stood across from her mother was the definition of the beauty of the golden age of Hollywood in looks and body. That girl next to Angelica and Frankie.

Then the session started. The therapist was a short middle-aged woman who sat at the head of the circle.

She sat in the same metal chairs as the other attendees, with the exception of a brunette with long brown hair and me.

“My name is Doctor Alma Bentham. Welcome,” she said with a polite smile.

Everyone looked at her, some gave a shy smile while others like Bronwyn turned to stare at something else.

“Since it’s everyone’s first time why don’t we go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Bronwyn you go first dear,” suggested Dr. Bentham sweetly.

“My name is Bronwyn Bruntley and due to rumors you probably already know me and my name, not like any of you would want to know the truth about me,” said Bronwyn in a pissed off voice before she sat back down.

“Very nice Miss Bruntley,” said Dr. Bentham in a faltered voice.

And awkward looking boy stood up.

“Hello, my name is Millard Nullings. Pleasured to meet you all,” said Millard with an uncomfortable smile upon his face.

Dr. Bentham nodded as Millard sat back down.

Two other boys introduced themselves as Horace Somnusson and Enoch O’Connor, then Angelica, Frankie, And the petite girl from earlier introduced herself as Agatha. Two girls the age of Angelica, Frankie, and Agatha introduced themselves as Claire and Olive. Then finally Jacob and Noor introduced themselves and then I did, and finally, we began.

“How about we tell everyone why we’re here? Bronwyn?” said Dr. Bentham.

“I’m here because people say I have anger problems. The only reason I shot the motherfucker was that he made my mom super morbidly obese and made her bed bound. Fucker had a fetish for those big women like you see on TLC. I shot him because he was right about to kill me. He was about to push me off the roof, so I took his gun and shot him. My mom died because he didn’t give her, her medication. The other stuff is rumors and they’re bullshit,” said Bronwyn as she crossed her arms over her busty chest.

And I thought for a moment I saw sadness in her eyes. Something everyone thought this girl with a supposed heart of stone was incapable of.

“Has anyone else here had rumors spread about them?” asked Dr. Bentham in a calm and soft voice.

Frankie, Angelica, Agatha, Claire, and Olive raised their hands.

“Frankie you go first, then Angelica, Agatha, Claire, then Olive,” said Dr. Bentham. 

“People said I pushed Olive down the stairs last year when I didn’t and they say I’m a bitch. Now with school starting up again and since I’m starting a new school since my old one closed I hope no one’s heard,” said Franki,e as she hugged a Bratz doll close to her stomach.

“People said that Agatha’s parents are dead and that my family adopted her. Divorced yes, dead no. She did live with us for a while but her parents wanted that so she wouldn’t be so upset with their divorce. They did the same for her sisters,” explained Angelica.

“People told other people that I was a bulimic and always threw up in the bathroom,” said Agatha as she withered into her seat.

“Um, pass,” said Claire.

“Me too,” said Olive.

Then Millard cut in.

“I didn’t see Emma raise her hand. Especially since there’s been so many about her,” said Millard.

Of course, Millard had to bring up those. Especially when they weren’t supposed to be.

“Those? How I slept with half the basketball team? Or how I supposedly set the shed behind my house on fire?” started and tried to rise out of my wheelchair as the anger rushed through me. I couldn’t but I was still flushed with anger.

“Emma, calm down,” said Dr. Bentham in a calming voice.

“Why should I?” I asked.

“Because this is a therapy group, not a teen drama circle,” said Dr. Bentham matter-of-factly.

“Plus a lot of people pity you, Emma. They pity you because they’re sorry for what happened to you. They pity you more because you’re pretty and you’re popular. And society only cares if that stuff happens to you if you’re pretty or popular,” snapped Noor.

“Now that’s not true,” said Dr. Bentham unconvincingly.

“Next thing you know she’ll be mad that Julia became a cheerleader. All because Julia wanted to make her proud and get to nationals for her sister,” sighed Bronwyn.

“My sister what?” I said in shock.

Julia? A cheerleader? No. She hated sports.

“She just wanted to make you proud Emma. She’s doing everything she can to make it to nationals. All for you. She didn’t want anyone telling you because she wanted it to be a surprise for you. Because she looks up to you so much Emma. Last time I was with her all she wanted to do was practice to perfect her cheer and routines,” said Bronwyn.

“For me?” I said in surprise and slight shock.

“Yes. Younger siblings do that, you know that right?” said Jacob.

Truthfully. I didn’t. I was hardly close to any of my siblings at all. Even though Julia herself had idolized me.

“I mean my little sister Payton started reading chapter books so she could be like me. She read trashy YA first though, The Twilight series, The Selection series, the throne of Glass series, the After series, The Vampire Diaries series, the Shadowhunter Chronicles. But now she’s reading the Harry Potter and all the series’s by Rick Riordan, Which I must say are much more appropriate for a nine-year-old girl,” said Millard.

“How did she manage to get the After series and The Twilight series?” asked Dr. Bentham in shock.

“Mom and dad thought the series were harmless but of course. But they realized their mistake of course and took the books away from her,” Millard said.

Then the conversation quickly devolved into asking how everyone’s day was. And to be honest we had no clue how long we had been talking.

“Hour’s up! I suggest since you all seem to have common interests that you all meet up somewhere,” said Dr. Bentham.

And of course, we all exchanged phone numbers. Before we went our separate ways.


	8. Happiest Memory (POV Horace)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some weird stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back. I hope you all enjoy. I have moved a few of the characters ages around if that’s okay.

I woke up that morning to a peculiar item on my face. A magazine page that had been taped to my wall. The man on it was airbrushed and toned to perfection.

I sighed and put it on my bedside table before getting out of my bed. I stretched out my long limbs and went to get ready for the day. 

I quickly went around my bedroom as I got ready for the day and to look perfect for it. I quickly slid downstairs to eat breakfast.

“Hey, mom,” I said as I came into the kitchen and set my backpack down on a chair. 

“Hello, Horace,” replied my mom.

I then had breakfast with my mom and siblings. I then went upstairs and brushed my teeth before I returned downstairs and sat on the couch before it was time for me to go to group therapy.

I was still talking to Enoch and we had hung out a few times but we still weren’t dating. I just wasn’t ready to go all the way with him yet and I still only saw him as a friend.

A short while later we were in the car, first, we dropped off Hale at basketball practice, then Hannah at sewing club, then finally me at the hospital.

I walked into the outpatient building and got into the elevator. I clicked on the button for the third floor. The doors were closing when a hand came in between them.

I jumped as the doors opened once again. A man in a business suit entered, along with two women, one dressed in designer clothes, the other dressed in a classy and feminine business suit, and two teens, both I recognized as Jacob and Agatha.

I looked again at the man in the business suit. He was tall, about late forties, with a cream homburg. 

“Hello, Horace,” Agatha chirped.

I turned to face her. She was wearing a girlish black dress with black ballet flats. An outfit choice that made her look like a girl of ten rather than a girl of fourteen.

The floor opened to the therapy floor and Agatha, Jacob, and I got out.

“Hey, Agatha,” I said as I walked forward.

“That was my uncle Leo and auntie Maryse in the elevator you saw earlier,” said Agatha as she walked backward in pace with me.

“And that third woman was my mother,” said Jacob falling in step with us.

“Oh that’s quite nice,” I said as I looked forward.

“He’s not really my uncle just my godfather. And aunt Maryse is his wife. I’m not related to either of them. They’re just friends’ of my mom,” said Agatha as she began to skip ahead of us.

Agatha hopped into the therapy room and sat down beside Frankie and Angelica.

Frankie clutched a different Barbie doll close to her chest. Her green hair dusting the dolls’ blonde.

Angelica was looking into a compact as she reapplied her lipstick.

Jacob sat beside Noor who was reading a book. Millard sat beside Bronwyn as they exchanged stories of the first week of school.

Olive And Claire came in soon after and they sat next to Frankie, Angelica, And Agatha.

Enoch came in when Dr. Bentham did. Enoch, as usual, was dressed in his attire of a black sweatshirt, black basketball shorts, black sneakers, and not to mention black lipstick and eyeliner.

“Welcome everyone,” said Dr. Bentham as she wrote on her clipboard.

“I trust you all had a good week,” she quickly added with a smile on her face.

She smelled of cigarettes and coffee. Like most people who did this stuff.

“Um, yeah,” said Jacob as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Today we will be sharing our most joyful of memories,” said Dr. Bentham as she wrote down on her clipboard.

“During this activity, you will recall your most joyful memory. After the time is up we will go in a circle and recall our stories. If you do not want to share that is fine. Just tell us. Five minutes begins now,” said Dr. Bentham and clicked a stopwatch.

I sat there during those five minutes, just trying to think of something to tell. Why was this so hard?

“Five minutes are up. Who would like to go first?” asked Dr. Bentham softly.

Bronwyn raised her hand.

“You may go Miss Bruntley. Tell us your most joyful memory,” said Dr. Bentham.

“Mine was when. I got to go live with Victor. I was living in foster care for the first three years after the incident, and not to say my foster family was horrible. They were amazing people don’t get me wrong. But I just didn’t click with their family. Then when Victor graduated from university he pulled me aside at his graduation party and asked me if I would want to live with him. I was overjoyed! I jumped into his arms and began to cry tears of joy. And two days later. I moved into his apartment, it’s a bit small but it’s home for us. I remember that first week. It was his first free week from work and school in seven whole years! We spent that entire week just having fun together, watching movies, eating junk food, staying up until the wee hours of the morning, and watching shows on Netflix. It was the best week of my life! And to top it off at the end of the week we went to the pool and swam and played in the pool until the sun went down. Those were my first happy memories for a long time,” said Bronwyn as she cracked a small smile before she sat down.

“Good. Who wants to go next?” asked Dr. Bentham with a smile.

Olive, Angelica, Agatha, Frankie, and Claire all raised their hands.

“Olive, then Claire, then Angelica, then Agatha, and then Frankie,” said Dr. Bentham.

“My best memory was when my dad took me on a hot air balloon. We went up so high! I felt like a bird. The wind felt so good on my face and a hawk flew past our hot air balloon. The sky was a perfect blue too! It was so cool!” said Olive with a girlish smile on her face.

Dr. Bentham smiled at her.

“My best memory was when I was adopted. I was placed up for adoption at birth by my parents and I lived in foster care until I was nine. That’s when I came into the process of being adopted by a man named Sharon. You might have seen him around a few times. Seven feet tall, EMT, facial scars from a car crash a few years ago. Well, he came in one day after the adoption process was underway and came to talk to me. We spent the whole day together. We went to an amusement park and got ice cream. It was the most fun I had had in a long while. And then a year later, came the day the adoption was finalized. I hugged him so hard when it was. I finally had a family, a real family. The thing I had wanted since forever,” said Claire as a smile came onto her face.

Dr. Bentham smiled at Claire.

“The best memory I ever had was when my dad bought me this makeup set. It was really expensive too. He got it for me because I got all As for two years. I was so happy and he was so proud of myself. I just remember saying “I love you so much, daddy”. When he left that night. I couldn’t wait to use it and show him….but when I did….turns out I love you daddy were the last words I ever got to tell him. That makeup set has been one of my most treasured possessions ever since,” said Angelica and sat down.

Claire put her arm around Angelica and rubbed her shoulder. I thought I could hear her whisper the words “it’s okay”.

And after a long pause, Agatha took her turn.

“Mine was when I finally got to meet my little sister. I remember I spent the entire day with Aunt Maryse and Uncle Leo and their kids. Their kids and I ran around playing inside their house and doing a ton of fun things. And then just after dinner time, I remember we had a triple pepperoni pizza. We got the call my mom had my little sister Ariana. Uncle Leo drove me to the hospital to see my new baby sister. She was so tiny. Just as tiny as my baby dolls, maybe even smaller! She was warm like a water bottle and chubby too! Uncle Leo said she looked like a cherub,” said Agatha with a bright smile upon her face.

The came Frankie’s turn.

“My happiest memory was the time I got a doll from my mom when she came back from a business trip in Mexico. It was so beautiful! She was made of porcelain and had silk hair and clothes. She was totalmente hermosa. As my dad would say. I named the doll Lolita. I keep Lolita in a glass case to protect her and to keep her beautiful,” said Frankie before she sat back down.

“Very good. Who would like to go next?” said Dr. Bentham as she wrote down on her clipboard.

No one responded. Everyone just sat in silence.

“Then I guess I will share mine. It was the day I got my college acceptance letter. I was in my room nursing a cigarette as I looked out the window on the sunny spring day. I was the only one home that day and I had just finished the household chores. When the mailman put our mail in the mailbox. I rushed outside to get it with my cigarette between my fingers. I got the mail and as I fingered through it, I found my letter. I quickly tore it open and found my acceptance letter. I felt my heart jump for joy. Especially because it was my dream school. I had worked so hard and I got so far and now it had all paid off. I was so proud of myself,” said Dr. Bentham her eyes shining as she recalled the happy memory.

The door opened and a man came in.

“Dr. Bentham there’s a phone call for you. It’s urgent,” said the man.

“Okay, I’ll be right out,” said Dr. Bentham her voice shaken as she followed the man out.

“Where is Emma anyway?” asked Olive.

“In her room. She didn’t want to come plus she got an infection. She’ll be fine though,” said Noor with her arms crossed.

“Today’s session was a lot calmer than last time,” I said.

“Yeah, probably because all the tension is gone,” said Bronwyn as she checked the time on her phone.

“And because we probably realized that everyone here didn’t suck as much or at all as we originally thought,” said Frankie as a smirk appeared on her face.

“What should we do?” asked Olive.

Angelica looked up.

“Truth or dare,” said Angelica a look of amusement appeared on her face.


End file.
